Seasons
by Kat253ox
Summary: A series of oneshots about Lily and James' life, following them through the seasons from Autumn 1980, after Harry's birth, to Autumn 1981, the year of their deaths.
1. Chapter 1

**Seasons**

**Summary:** A series of oneshots about Lily and James' life, following them through the seasons from Autumn 1980, after Harry's birth, to Autumn 1981, the year of their deaths.

**Chapter one – Autumn 1980**

Things one shouldn't do are often the nicest. Like lying on their double mattress, in the middle of the floor, next to a half-set up bed, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes and half-painted walls, with the baby asleep in the next room, at eleven o'clock on a Sunday morning. Their clothes were strewn about the room – James' trousers lying across the bed frame, with the belt half pulled out of the belt loops, and Lily's bra hanging off the edge of a box labelled 'Bedroom stuff'. The bed sheets were caught up around James' left leg, but his right leg was bare, and entangled in Lily's bare legs. They lay there, just being, enjoying each other's embrace.

James was inspecting Lily's left hand – the chipped red nail polish, the simple gold band on her fourth finger that showed that she belonged completely and utterly to him, next to the slightly more ostentatious engagement, with its three sparkling diamonds, set, again, in gold. He'd wanted to give her something that she could wear all day, every day, that wouldn't get in the way of everyday things that she wanted to do, but that would show just how much he loved her. When he'd voiced those thoughts, she'd laughed. Not unkindly, but in that soft, teasing way that she had. 'Oh my love, I don't need any extortionately expensive diamond the size of my fist to know how much you love me. All I need is you and your words. All you need to do is love me, and tell me so.' And he'd done just that. He told her he loved her every day, at least once. Not at routine times of the day, but at different times. Sometimes he'd whisper it in her ear as he felt her stir in the mornings, on the verge of wakefulness. Sometimes he'd sneak up behind her as she washed the dishes from their lunch, and tell her how much he loved her. Sometimes he'd call it over his shoulder as he left their house to go out with Sirius. The effect the three simple words had on her, even now after years of saying it, was incredible to watch. She would start, look up from what she was doing, with a tender blush creeping up her delicate throat, and a breathtakingly happy smile upon her lips, which would then be wiped away as she leant towards him and placed a quick, chaste kiss upon his lips. But he meant it. He didn't think he could love anything as much as he loved Lily and Harry.

Lily lay there in James' arms, watching his pensive eyes as he thought these things. There was something there, behind the thoughts, that still made her catch her breath – no matter how many times she saw it. The love there overwhelmed her, and she felt her own eyes start to prickle with tears. Turning her head, she looked out of the window at their little back garden. The autumn leaves were still falling, dancing their way down from the boughs of the tall oak tree in the middle of the garden to land on the hard earth, upon which a sullen frost still lay, despite the relatively late hour. The sun in the autumn didn't get high enough in the sky to peer over the house and thaw the ground until much later in the day.

Glancing around the room, and out of the newly painted doorway to the hall, Lily smiled. Yes, things might be in a state of disarray at the moment, but they'd sort it out, together. And once they had painted the walls – hopefully without getting it all over each other at the same time (although she wouldn't really complain that much if they ended up having another paint fight that culminated in James catching her, and kissing her paint-splattered face while she attempted to paint his hair blue through her laughter!) – unpacked the boxes, and set up their home, everything would be perfect. She would settle down to becoming a proper wife and mother, in a proper house.

A wife. Mrs Lily Potter. James Potter's wife and the mother of his child. There were times when she would have blanched at the thought, and run, screaming, from the room. But now, lying there on a mattress on the floor, with mess and stuff all around them, Harry sleeping in his cot in the room next door, and the last autumn leaves falling to the ground around their little house in Godric's Hollow, Lily Potter couldn't be happier.

**A.N.:** I quite like the way this turned out - there isn't much in the way of dialogue, but I'm quite fond of it anyway. Maybe the following chapters will have more dialogue in them. Hope you like it, please review.


	2. Chapter 2  Winter 1980

**Seasons**

**Summary:** A series of oneshots about Lily and James' life, following them through the seasons from Autumn 1980, after Harry's birth, to Autumn 1981, the year of their deaths.

**Chapter two – Winter 1980**

Lily smiled as she walked along the avenue. She walked hand in hand with James, watching Peter and Remus, who was carrying Harry, chasing behind a large, black dog. Harry laughed with unparalleled delight, clapping his little hands together in pure joy as he watched Sirius try to bite up the falling snowflakes before they hit the ground.

A backward glance showed her a very picturesque view. The roofs all of the houses in the little row that was their street in Godric's Hollow were coated in snow. The snow was beginning to pile up on the tops of the gates, and there was a trickle of smoke beginning to dance its way up to the snow-laden clouds from the chimney of number twelve. The Christmas wreath that crowned the red door of number nine – _their_ red door – was a traditional circular one of intertwined holly and ivy.

Lily remembered well the bickering that had ensued when she had proposed they use that wreath – James had argued 'Why can't we have something more colourful? Christmas isn't about having the dullest things imaginable everywhere, is it?'

To which she had replied, 'No, but nor is it about having garishly bright colours, clashing with everything, and even with each other.'

The row could have gone on for a while, what with Sirius chipping in every now and then with the odd 'Yeah, Lily, it's _dull_', and Peter's 'I like Lily's idea, James', until Remus, ever the voice of reason, made a suggestion. 'How about Lily's holly and ivy wreath – James, Sirius, wait until you've heard me out before you groan like that, _please_ – but with red holly berries in it? That'd brighten it up, without making it tasteless. In fact, I think the red berries'd go nicely with your red door. What d'you think?'

They had all agreed, somewhat grudgingly, in Lily's case, but nobody could argue that it didn't look good with berries in it. Later that evening, they all sat in front of the fire (with a grate in front of it, because not matter how nice an idea it was to have a cosy, open fire in the living room, it just wasn't practical with a curious, crawling, four-month-old baby in the house). James had crept up behind Lily, where she knelt by an interested Harry, and whispered in her ear 'I love you.' At that, Sirius had begun to chuckle. 'Sorry, but it's just so funny that even after all these years, when you love each other so much, you still bicker over the littlest things. Seriously, a Christmas _wreath_! That's the kind of topic for an argument that I might have expected from thirteen-year-old James and Lily, not from happily-married, twenty-year-old James and Lily.'

The memory brought a smile to Lily's pink-cheeked face as she walked along the avenue. She took her gaze from their house to their footsteps in the new fallen snow – Sirius' big paw prints, James' large footsteps beside her smaller ones, and Harry's tiny footprints between those of Remus and Peter, with the odd scuffed patch of snow where he had stumbled on the slightly uneven ground. Harry's ended a few yards outside the house, at the point where Remus had swept him up into his arms, and run off after Sirius.

'Paddy!' Lily looked up. Harry beamed as his godfather leapt into a deep bank of snow and rolled around in it, taking care to spray snow up in all directions.

'It's funny, I never used to find Sirius' dog antics especially entertaining, but –' mused Lily.

'- My love, you never used to find _anything_ especially entertaining, except perhaps thinking up new variations on the old 'arrogant, bullying toe-rag' comments. It's a good job I finally brought you to your senses, isn't it?'

Lily hit her teasing husband playfully on the arm. '_You_ brought _me_ to my senses? Don't make me laugh, Potter. If anything, it was me, with my charming responsibility, who brought you to your senses. Anyway, I was just thinking, having someone as happy and contented as Harry around really puts everything into a new perspective, doesn't it? I mean, I never would have found so much to marvel at in something as simple as the white snow falling on Sirius' black fur, before Harry pointed it out with that wide-eyed look of amazement that he has.'

James wrapped his arms around his wife's shoulders and pressed his lips to her cold cheeks. 'Shall we think about going back?' He called to Sirius, Remus, Peter and Harry. Harry's scowl faded quickly as his godfather got up from the snow and bounded towards Lily and James – it was, after all, very cold out, and Harry knew that after a walk in the snow, he got to take off the restricting layers, and have some warm milk, sat on his father's lap in front of the fire.

The six of them turned and began to walk back towards the welcome warmth of number nine. There was no denying that they were the perfect family – smiling mother, protective father, fun uncles, and innocent young boy – out for a walk on a perfect winter's day.

**A.N.:** Yes, I know, it's cliché, but I like it. There's more dialogue in this one - I hope you like it! Please review.


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